


Never Regret

by dracoqueen22



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of four oneshots, from the first farewell to the last chance, detailing the relationship between Kisuke and Sousuke. First published December 2007, before the events of Turn Back the Pendulum were revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. World of Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The before and the after. The night Urahara Kisuke abandons Soul Society, he leaves some things behind.

The door slid closed with a quiet thump, echoing in the silent stillness around him. Urahara expanded his senses, mostly to ensure himself that there was no one in the vicinity. Detecting no reiatsu, he took a deep breath and concentrated on sealing the doors before him shut.

Fingers dancing over the thick steel, he whispered the strongest binding kidoh he knew, ensuring that few would be able to break into the building. Then, on top of those, he added several layers of concealment and reiatsu blocking. This structure contained his life's work, the things he could not take with him. He had to leave it as best guarded as he could.

Luckily, he had crafted most of it underground so that only the entrance was above the soil. It wasn't in plain sight either. And so far off into the vast reaches of Soul Society that only those who knew of its existence could find it. That number was very few indeed. He could name them all on just one hand and all of them were leaving with him.

Abandoning Soul Society.

His fingers fell away from the door as the last spell clicked into place. Above him, the moon gleamed down, the only witness. A wind stirred, rustling at his hair and captain's robes, reminding them that he had somewhere he was supposed to be. An event he was supposed to be celebrating. Not at this very moment but soon enough.

Brushing blond hair from his eyes, Urahara cast a lingering look at the hidden location that held all of his aspirations and hard work. He idly wondered how long it would take for Seireitei to discover it before turning away and slipping into the shadows. He didn't have long to linger. He and the others were leaving late this night before they came for him in the morning.

With that in mind, Urahara turned and flitted away, heading straight for the home that he shared with Sousuke. He could only hope that he wouldn't be late. He hated disappointing his lover. And he had only this one chance. He didn't want to end it on a terrible note.

It wasn't that Urahara wanted to leave. But his hand had been forced in the matter. Chamber 46 had found out about his research, and they were going to cast him aside anyway. But not until they found a way to destroy everything. He wasn't going to allow that to happen. Nor could he let them decide for themselves how to handle the situation.

He knew it wasn't really because of his research, but rather that they were frightened little children, cowering in their corners. They didn't want Shinigami stretching out of their control. They planned on making an example of him.

Urahara refused to let them.

They were going to claim that he played god, that he toyed with the lives of others, knowing full well that it wasn't true. There was nothing wrong with examining the limits of science, with testing above and beyond. His creations weren't necessarily evil. It all depended on the hands that held them.

He faced exile; Urahara knew that. Or at least, they would call it that after he escaped. If he had allowed them to come for him, he was pretty sure exile would have been the least of his worries. After all, if he was exiled, he was still alive. He could still research and plan.

They couldn't have that.

In all honesty, Urahara didn't want to leave. His friends and family were here. The division he had worked into notoriety, the Shinigami Research Institute he had begun with his own two hands. And most importantly, Sousuke was here.

His choice in the matter, however, had been taken from him.

He had debated long and hard about whether or not he should tell his lover. Sousuke had known that he was engaging in some potentially controversial research, was aware that Soul Society wouldn't approve. But he didn't know how advanced the situation had become, how close they were to finally catching up to Urahara.

By the end, he had decided to keep everything a secret. Even the fact he was leaving. He wasn't certain if it was because he knew Sousuke would try to come with him or that he feared his lover would choose to stay behind. He simply couldn't ask that of the other man, not when he had so much left to do. Out of all of them, Urahara knew that Sousuke was the best for bid to be the next captain-commander. The old man was already grooming him for the position. And he refused to take that opportunity from his lover; Sousuke deserved it.

Urahara knew it would hurt. Leaving Sousuke would be the hardest part of it all, especially since it would be without a goodbye. But this was something that had to be done. He couldn't stay, and he didn't dare ask his lover to leave. It was as simple as that.

He also knew that in order to escape successfully, he would have to break their bond. In order to protect Sousuke from the eventual interrogation, he would have to ensure that there was no way the other man could find him. That link between them, growing stronger over the years, binding them together, he couldn't afford Soul Society being able to trace it. Nor did he want to put Sousuke in the position where he would have to lie or try to hide it. Instead, he would make that decision for the both of them.

It would be easier with that bond broken for Sousuke to move on as well. He would at least want his lover to be happy with him gone. He wouldn't want Sousuke to feel obliged to remain faithful to an absent partner. The other captain was doing so much good for not only the fifth division already; Urahara knew that eventually he would be good for Soul Society. He refused to take that away.

In this manner, he would take the burden entirely on his own.

With a flash, Urahara came to a stop just outside their shared home, glancing quickly around to see if someone had noticed his arrival or the direction he had come from. He didn't see or detect a single individual, judging that all was safe. Breathing a sigh of relief, he headed inside.

"I'm home," he called out as he stepped within, sliding the door shut behind him.

He only felt one other person inside, their servants obviously dismissed for the night. Down the hallway, Kisuke caught sight of Sousuke popping his head out of a doorway before ducking back.

"In the kitchen," came the answer.

He had assumed as much. Kisuke slid out of his waraji and left them in the front entryway, padding quietly down the hall. He tried not to dwell on the fact that this would be the last time he would ever do this. Instead, he focused on trailing his lover into the kitchen.

"I apologize for being late," he responded as he followed the delicious smells and caught sight of Sousuke in front of the stove, setting a tea pot on the burner. "I had some business to take care of."

Sousuke turned and arched a brow. "Should I expect to bail you out of trouble once more, Kisuke?" he asked, one hand idly brushing down a stray piece of rice from his dark green yukata.

The stab of guilt that flashed through him was not entirely unexpected. He overlaid it with a smile, however, refusing to let his turmoil show on his face.

"Of course not. Why would I seek to worry you?" he asked, full of false innocence.

Skeptical and not hiding it in the slightest, his lover merely waved him. "Go change. Dinner should be ready in a moment," Sousuke replied, turning back towards his food preparations.

"I should be doing that," Kisuke said, though he was already moving to their shared bedroom just down the hall. "It is your birthday, after all."

He was gifted with Sousuke's low chuckle. "If I wanted to eat charred meat and loose rice, then perhaps I would allow it," the other captain countered wryly, his voice following Kisuke's movements.

Shaking his head, the head of the research division chuckled and slipped into their dark room, flipping the switch. Light flooded the decent-sized chamber as he crossed the room towards the closet, already pulling off his captain's haori. He grabbed a hanger and hung it next to his spare, his eyes flickering to the two already beside it. One hand paused on his obi in thought as the other reached out, fingers brushing over Sousuke's haori. The sudden painful thought that he wouldn't be seeing this very scene again struck him hard. He wasn't taking any of this with him.

This night was going to be even more difficult than he had anticipated. Sousuke was so damn perceptive, and he was trying too hard to hide everything burbling up inside of him. Even if he had known it was inevitable and had been stretching how long he could stay in Soul Society, that didn't make leaving any easier. And to be forced to do so on Sousuke's birthday! It simply was not fair.

"Do you need help?"

Kisuke nearly jumped, barely managing to gain control of himself before he did. He turned to see Sousuke standing in the doorway, watching him, and smiled. This, at least, he did not have to force. Even if it hurt, he would always be happy to see this man.

He finally tugged his obi off, dropping his hand from the other hanging haori. "Getting dressed or getting undressed?" Kisuke teasingly asked, both of his kimono falling open in the absence of the sash.

Sousuke came further into the room, steps a silent swish on the polished wooden floors. "Which do you think?" he posed with a bemused air, stepping up behind the other man and wrapping his arms around him. The warmth of his skin and fingers was familiar against Kisuke's bare belly.

"Shouldn't you be watching dinner?" he countered, his free hand dropping to the arm around his waist.

"I'm not you, Kisuke. I'm in no danger of giving us food poisoning," he teased with a light chuckle. "Let us not have a repeat of the taiyaki incident."

Kisuke groaned, rolling his eyes as memories washed over him. "You're never going to let me forget that."

"I was sick for three days. Retsu-chan was not impressed," Sousuke reminded him, setting his chin on Kisuke's shoulder. "You single-handedly managed to take out half the captains in Soul Society, conquering even the captain-commander's iron stomach."

Kisuke laughed. "Yes, but Jyuu-chan was the only one who didn't get sick," he corrected with a fond smirk, thinking of that event decades ago. In the distance, he heard the shrill whistle of the tea kettle. "I guess that's my signal to make tea."

"No, I will make us tea," Sousuke inserted easily, unraveling his arms from Kisuke's waist and leaving his hands settled on hips bathed in layers of fabric. "We want it to be drinkable. Not bitter enough to kill Hollows."

Turning in his lover's grasp, Kisuke put on a playful pout that usually served to get him what he wanted. "Mah. You mock me, Sou-kun," he put in, eyes glinting mischievously.

"I consider it my duty as your lover," Sousuke replied with a very familiar smirk. "And as the only one willing to put up with you for all these years."

The shrieking of the tea kettle grew louder, rattling the walls of their home and reminding them that it was ready to get off the hot stove now. Before Kisuke could speak again, Sousuke ducked in for a brief kiss before pulling away with evident disappointment.

"You're telling me what is bothering you at dinner," he declared, already sliding out of the room and leaving Kisuke to stare after him.

He should have known that Sousuke would see through him in a moment. The other captain had always been incredibly perceptive, even when it came to him. But it wasn't something he was willing to discuss. Not and ruin everything tonight. Kisuke wanted to leave with good memories, not an argument and demands and questions.

Sighing, the twelfth division captain quickly shucked off the rest of his shihakushou and grabbed his favorite yukata. It was a soft grey color, minimalistic but suited to his purposes. At least, no one could tease him about his lack of fashion sense in it. He pulled it on and slid the closet doors shut, heading out of the room and flicking the light switch back off as he passed.

In the small room off to the side of the kitchen that served as their dining room, Sousuke was already pouring out the tea. He had seated himself at one end of the table, the surface covered in a myriad of dishes that all smelled delicious. Kisuke's stomach grumbled appreciatively as he took his seat across from his lover, staring at the results of Sousuke's afternoon spent cooking.

"It looks delicious," he commented, getting settled.

He was regarded with amusement. "Of course," Sousuke replied, setting the kettle back on the warming pad.

Chopsticks in hand, Kisuke wasn't even sure where to begin with all that Sousuke had prepared. He settled for starting with his favorites, murmuring an "Itadakimasu."

Soft eyes watched him for several long moments before Sousuke copied his movements, filling his own plate as well.

They ate in companionable silence, Kisuke surprisingly able to push away the uncomfortable clenching in his belly. He was going to miss this, but he refused to ruin it by dreading his plans for later that night. He didn't want to dwell on what he was going to be doing. He wanted to enjoy where he was now.

"Are you going to tell me?"

Inwardly cursing, Kisuke lowered his hand, setting his chopsticks against the plate. He lifted his gaze to his lover, having hoped that Sousuke would have forgotten about his earlier declaration.

"Tomorrow," he assured the other man, suppressing the wince that tomorrow wasn't in existence for them. "I do not want to spoil tonight."

Pools of dark brown searched him for a long moment before Sousuke dipped his head. "Fair enough," he conceded.

Kisuke breathed a sigh of relief, pulling a grin onto his lips. "We're celebrating, aren't we?" he inquired, ignoring the twisting churn of guilt in his gut. "Let's splurge and drink that expensive bottle of sake Shun-chan gave us last year."

Sousuke lifted a brow. "Us?"

Rolling his eyes, he waved a dismissive hand. "Alright. He gave it to you. But we should share it." Kisuke put on his best sultry look, watching his lover over the rim of his tea cup. "It always tastes better shared," he added, pointedly flicking his tongue briefly over the white porcelain. It was Sousuke's favorite tea set, he recognized.

He was pleased to find Sousuke's gaze following the movement of his tongue, even as a chiding tone slipped from his lover's mouth. "We may have this day off, Kisuke. But the both of us have to return to work tomorrow."

The cup met the table with a soft thunk. "It's a special night. We should ignore responsibility just this once." Kisuke shrugged nonchalantly. "And what could it hurt?"

A fond smile decorated Sousuke's lips as he rose to his feet with careful movements not to jar the table. "Why is it that you always con a gift out of me on my birthday?" he asked rhetorically, voice filled with amusement.

He stepped inside the kitchen, moving to their increasingly sparse alcohol rack and selecting the aforementioned bottle. It really was one of the finer sakes out there, to be expected from Kyouraku Shunsui. It was perhaps the only real gift he knew how to give.

Pleased, Kisuke stood and stepped away from the table, gathering up their sake cups. He had known, with a brief glance at the clock, that he was running short of time. As much as he wanted to sit and enjoy dinner for another couple of hours, he'd had yet to finish saying his silent goodbye.

He greeted his lover before Sousuke could step completely into the room, gesturing towards him with the cups. "Bedroom?" he suggested.

Those eyes looked pointedly past him, glancing at their meal. "And dinner?"

"It should keep," Kisuke countered, leaning in to steal another quick kiss that wanted to linger. "It was delicious, by the way. Thank you." He raised his gaze, and their eyes locked as he added, "And happy birthday."

Chuckling, his lover smiled. "I was wondering when you would get to that."

"I have to keep you guessing; otherwise, you might try for a newer model," Kisuke countered before returning to their original conversation. "Bedroom?" he posed once more.

Though obviously amused, Sousuke was quick to agree. "Lead the way."

In one accord, the two lovers headed towards their shared bedroom, hearts thrumming with a sense of anticipation.

"Gin-chan brought breakfast this morning," Sousuke idly commented, his tone filled with appreciation for his vice-captain. "He was up bright and early making Eggs Benedict for me."

Kisuke easily recognized this turn, the beginning of of another one of their usual lines of banter and play. "Oh?" he responded as they entered the bedroom. "It was good?"

The look he was given was filled with amusement. "Is that jealousy, Kisuke? Ashamed that my cute vice-captain can cook and you cannot?"

Kisuke scoffed, ignoring the thin trail of jealousy that was indeed threading through him. A good portion of Soul Society was unnerved by Ichimaru Gin, but Kisuke was not one of them. There was something too lost in the silver-haired boy for Kisuke to be even slightly afraid of him.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he took a class just for the occasion," Kisuke responded with a hint of teasing. "The boy worships the ground you walk on. You're his hero."

It was only one of the many reasons Kisuke was certain that he couldn't ask his lover to come with him. There were too many who needed him in Soul Society. There was too much that his lover planned to do and accomplish. Sousuke needed to remain behind.

Sousuke lowered himself to the bed, situating himself comfortably as Kisuke flicked off the lights, leaving only the lamp by the futon on.

"You're being awfully romantic, tonight, Kisuke. Is this my birthday gift?" Sousuke teased, dark eyes glinting. "I make dinner, and you... turn off the lights?"

Kisuke shot him a look of exasperation, crawling onto the futon next to his lover. "Sousuke, you know me better than that," he answered with a sly smile, handing over one of the two cups he held.

"Indeed, I do." The other man shifted closer to him and uncorked the bottle, slowly filling their bowls. "I should expect something surprising tomorrow then?"

"If you expected, it wouldn't be a surprise," Kisuke reminded him, watching the sake slosh into his bowl before holding it out for a toast. "To another year's worth of... happiness and good fortune."

"And another year's worth of love," Sousuke added, poking fun at their benefactor.

Shunsui always saluted to love.

Their bowls struck each other gently before both captains swallowed down their drinks, enjoying the delicious flavor of the expensive sake. A warming sensation spread through Kisuke's body, and he inwardly thanked Shunsui. He reached for the bottle, determined to pour them another, when Sousuke turned towards him, capturing his lips in a sudden kiss.

Pleasantly surprised, Kisuke enjoyed the simple press of their mouths, his tongue flicking briefly across Sousuke's lips before he ended the short kiss.

"Good stuff," Kisuke commented, licking his lips and wriggling his bowl demonstratively.

Sousuke chuckled lightly, sake sloshing into the wood carefully. "We should go to the festival again this year," he suggested, sipping lightly, enjoying the soft burn as sake trickled down. "It is always amusing to see Shunsui make a fool of himself."

Inwardly, Kisuke cringed. It seemed unfair that it should hurt this much. It was almost as if Sousuke knew that he was leaving and wanted to grind the guilt into him as much as possible. Talking of tomorrow and the future when there was not going to be one.

It was decidedly bitter.

"I enjoyed that." He wished whole-heartedly that he could be there. One of the many things he would miss.

The smile on his face was bittersweet. He turned and cupped his fingers around the back of Sousuke's neck, pulling their mouths together in order to chase away the sorrow. He traced his tongue over his lover's lips, loving the taste of sake, tea, and familiarity. It made his heart skip a beat as he pressed onwards.

Empty sake cups tipped to the floor, a twin set of low clatters echoing around them. Kisuke's hand slid through the part in his lover's yukata, pushing the fabric off one browned shoulder. He loved Sousuke's skin, a shade darker than his own.

"I've always loved you in this color," he murmured, dragging his lips down to Sousuke's exposed collarbone, dropping feather-light kisses. "It really suits you."

The sound of the sake jug hitting the floor floated to his ears, joining the subtle noise of Sousuke's quickening breathing.

"It's my favorite," the other man replied in a soft tone, shifting slightly to accommodate Kisuke's position. One hand lifted, setting on his lover's hip and curling around him.

"I know," Kisuke purred, breath ghosting over the bared skin before him.

A warm tongue traced a path across Sousuke's flesh as his free hand dragged downwards, fingers dancing over warm skin. Sousuke smelled of eucalyptus and tea and cypress wood. A scent that had always proved to be fascinating.

"Mine, too."

With a shift and a move that surprised his lover, Kisuke surged upwards, guiding Sousuke to lie on his back. One hand deftly pulled off the man's obi, causing the dark green yukata to fall completely open. Kisuke's eyes hungrily devoured the flesh presented to him, wanting nothing more than to lick and taste.

Hair splayed out against the soft cotton of the blanket, Sousuke's eyes flickering to the sash questioningly. "Oh?"

Kisuke shook his head, tossing the obi to the side. "No games," he clarified, crawling over his lover and leaning down to brush his mouth over Sousuke's lips. "Not tonight."

Gray-green eyes regarded his lover. Kisuke grinned, plucking the glasses from Sousuke's face with some amusement.

"Honestly, you should get rid of these clunky old things. Or at least get better looking ones," he commented, shaking the heavily-rimmed frames.

Sousuke reached up, taking them gently from his hold and folding them carefully. "If I were to go by your fashion sense, I would be as big a laughingstock as Isshin," he replied, setting his spectacles off to the side, where they would hopefully be out of danger.

"So says you."

Sword-calloused hands ran along Sousuke's side, enjoying the warmth of skin beneath his fingers. The grey fabric of his own yukata was beginning to fall from his shoulders, gaping visibly and giving hints to the flesh beneath. Brown eyes watched the slowly revealing skin hungrily while Kisuke sought to memorize all the little details about his lover.

It was proving rather difficult to keep his emotions dampened in an effort to remove Sousuke's suspicion.

Leaning over, Kisuke pressed a kiss to Sousuke's belly, his lips a faint touch as he began to work his way upwards. The scent of his lover wrapped around him, always familiar. And then, a hand settled in his hair, inspiring him to look up. Sousuke was watching him with that endlessly mysterious and yet fond look, eyes beginning to glaze over with desire.

Kisuke had never wanted to damn Soul Society more in his life.

He returned his attentions to the body in front of him, slowly undulating under his ministrations. If Sousuke lifted a hand to help, he calmly batted it away. This was his moment, his pleasure to provide, and he left kisses where his lips trailed, over firm abs, across a flat chest. He nipped and licked at the tender skin of Sousuke's throat, refraining from making too visible a mark. His hands were relentless in their stroking, flitting touches here and there designed to drive his lover into heavy need.

He loved moments like these, watching Sousuke's eyelashes fluttered closed. All the calm and politeness he showed the world bled away in the face of desire and pleasure. He silently demanded more, and Kisuke had always been proud that he was the only one to see Sousuke like this, completely open and free.

The soft noises coming from Sousuke's mouth could only be taken as encouragement. But as much as he wanted to hear them, Kisuke wanted to taste his lover more. His lips found Sousuke's as he kissed him deeply, tongues tangling and warring with bouts of submission and fighting.

Kisuke allowed himself to fall into the moment, not thinking of anything beyond this instant in time. He pushed away what was to happen later and what would be coming the next day. That had no place here.

His lips were hungry and desperate yet slowly devouring Sousuke's. His hands roamed unceasingly, flitting and embracing. One set of fingers dove into the covers, seeking the always present bottle of oil, which was half-empty judging by the heft of it. He dragged it closer, his lips finding Sousuke's smooth jaw and throat, trying to memorize everything. Every line and curve. Every moan and sigh.

The oil's light scent filled the room as he positioned himself between Sousuke's thighs, hands stroking over the surprisingly velvety flesh. Quiet breaths echoed, even as his fingers worked gently, bringing nothing but pleasure. He pressed kisses to Sousuke's belly, to his shoulder, to wherever his lips could reach.

Preparation was quick because Sousuke's hand was on his arm, encouraging him to blanket his body. He pressed inside of his lover slowly, rocking deeper with each roll of his hips. The soft moans were like music to his ears, and he gasped, embraced by tight heat. He wondered if he would ever forget this feeling before promptly pushing that thought to the back of his mind.

Fingers tangled in his hair, Sousuke forcing their lips together, not that Kisuke minded. Their bodies moved together in a rhythm borne from memorizing each other and their wants. Sousuke's legs clasped around his waist, driving him deeper. Deft fingers slipped between their bodies, Kisuke gripping his lover and stroking him in time to their thrusts.

The faint coppery taste of blood met his tongue as their kiss grew harder, but he didn't mind. A hand groped at his back, fingers digging into his flesh. Kisuke's own free hand grasped at the futon, giving him more leverage. Sousuke arched to meet every deepening thrust, a throaty purr echoing in his chest. Kisuke's own rumbles of pleasure joined his. The quiet slap of flesh on flesh joined the silence of the room, sweat beading on their bodies and dampening their hair.

Without his consent and surprising them both, Kisuke was the first to reach his peak. He broke away from Sousuke's lips with a desperate need for air, body trembling as he released inside his lover. His fingers flexed in their hold around Sousuke, dragging the other man into climax with him.

He collapsed atop Sousuke, breath coming in sharp pants. Their mouths languidly met.

"No stamina," Sousuke teased, but it was without any true heat. "That's okay. We'll do better next time."

Kisuke froze for an instant before rolling his eyes. "I blame it on the sake," he countered, his hands tracing along Sousuke's hip.

"Excuses."

He smiled, placing a consoling kiss to Sousuke's collarbone before gently extricating himself from their tangled bodies. He was released without any argument, his intentions clear. Sousuke merely raked a hand through his hair, brushing the loose strands out of his face as he watched his naked lover move.

Kisuke rose from the futon, paying no heed to his nudity as he padded to the bathroom and procured a wet cloth. Returning to the room, he lazily wiped them clean, chuckling when Sousuke dragged him down for another kiss.

"And who was the one reminding me of work tomorrow?" Kisuke teased, swiping the cloth over their cooling bodies.

A finger traced over his upper arm as teeth nipped at his lips. "And who was trying to distract me from my responsibilities?" Sousuke returned lazily, voice filled with satisfaction and sleepiness.

"Guilty as charged." He nipped at Sousuke's ear and tossed the cloth over his shoulder, throwing it against a far wall where it slapped wetly and then struck the floor.

Amusement flooded him at the disconcerted look that briefly crossed Sousuke's face. "You're cleaning that later," he murmured, throwing a leg over Kisuke and pulling him onto the futon for sleep.

He ignored the twinge that seemed to always strike at the mention of any sort of later. "Maybe I will; maybe I won't," he countered, breath puffing over Sousuke's ear.

His lover barely stirred, body already shifting into the most comfortable position for sleep. Silence descended in the room, but Kisuke didn't bother to allow himself the comfort or warmth offered by Sousuke's body. Instead, he waited for his lover's breathing to even.

Sousuke was always the first to fall asleep; he did not have to wait long.

Kisuke knew that there would be no rest for himself. Nevertheless, he laid in bed, quietly watching his lover of so very long sleep. He knew on some level that this would be the last time he would see Sousuke so relaxed. Perhaps the last time he would see him at all.

His heart clenched and coiled at the thought.

Chewing on his bottom lip to reign in his emotions, too wild and possibly strong enough to awaken his lover, Kisuke forced himself to slip from bed. His fingers brushed over Sousuke's cheek, lingering at the smooth warmth, just a bare touch before he pulled back. He ignored every instinct to lie back down and began the search for his clothes but not before pulling the blanket over his lover's unclothed form.

He left his captain's haori behind, the white fluttering fabric more obvious than he needed at the moment. He pulled on the plain shihakushou, pretending to be any lower-ranked Shinigami. Benihime slipped into his obi, humming disconsolately at his side. She did not want to leave either. Did not want to desert her mate.

Kisuke stood in the doorway of their shared bedroom, turning to look back despite his every instinct not to do so. They always said never look back, but he couldn't help himself. From his position, he could see Sousuke's form outlined on the bed, body still slack in sleep.

It touched something inside his heart.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, barely loud enough to carry beyond his own ears, and Kisuke slipped out of their room.

He cleaned the kitchen before he left, putting away their food and storing it for later. Everything would have spoiled by morning, and he didn't want Sousuke's hard work to go to waste. It would be his final gift, other than the one that would arrive long after Sousuke had left for work in the morning.

Only afterwards did he disappear into the night.

He knew that Yoruichi and Tessai were waiting for him out in the cover of darkness, both carefully concealing their reiatsu. His vice-captain's loyalty was unprecedented. Kisuke hadn't asked either to come, but they had made that decision anyway. He could only imagine how they had discovered what was to come but couldn't begrudge them their choice.

Kisuke flitted away from his home in quick flashes of shunpo, making his way through the night. He tried not to linger on the emotions surging inside of him, but it was hard to keep them dampened. He hoped that their friends would be there to take care of Sousuke in the morning. Both Isshin and Jyuu-chan. Maybe even Shunsui if he were sober enough.

Swallowing thickly, he put on a face of determination. This was something he had to do; there was no turning back now.

* * *

 

Morning came, stealing its way into the day with a subtlety that surprised all the residents of Soul Society. Bright sunshine fought with graying clouds, spraying a mist of clear beams and faint rain. It was both warm and wet, bright and dark, and the moment Sousuke opened his eyes, he felt off-balance.

Blearily, he looked out the nearest window, frowning at the fourth week in a long string of strange weather. It seemed the sky couldn't decide if it would rain or be sunny, not that either would get him out of going to work. He stirred from his nest of covers, missing immediately his lover's usual warmth at his back. It wasn't unusual for Kisuke to leave before him, and worry left in a blink.

Besides, he could still feel Kisuke's reiatsu, a thread humming inside of him in a constant presence he had come to expect every day. It was something he cherished. He knew Kisuke more intimately then he knew himself sometimes; it was often hard to untie them from one another.

Languishing in the comfort of his futon for another moment, the wet heat of the morning finally annoyed him enough to slip from his blankets. His body was both pleasantly sore and equally sated, bringing a faint smile to his lips.

Sousuke rose from his futon and went about his morning ritual, his mind already busying itself with the task of preparing for the office. There were papers to be signed, plans to make, a few disciplines to hand out, and he had a meeting with the captain-commander later that afternoon. However, he wasn't entirely certain of what topic they were supposed to be discussing.

He dressed quickly, ran a hand through his hair and located his glasses. He forewent breakfast, inwardly relying on Gin-chan to bring him something as always. He would have tea in the office.

Slipping Kyouka Suigetsu into his obi, Sousuke frowned in faint confusion. His zanpakutou was thrumming weakly, his voice carrying an odd, saddened note. It was something he would have to investigate fully later. As it were, his languorous motions this morning had put him behind schedule. Leaving his pondering for a better time, Sousuke left his home and headed to the office.

He was amazed to find most of Seireitei in a buzz of excitement. Something must have happened. Since he hadn't heard the alarms, he assumed it wasn't an attack of some kind. Nor did he know of any special occasion that was up for celebration. Which meant it probably had something to do with his lover.

A small chuckle escaped his lips. He wondered what amusing joke Kisuke had played on Yamamoto-soutaichou this time. The other captain would never learn, it seemed. And Sousuke was certain that he probably had an accomplice. The whispers among the lower-ranked Shinigami stirred his interest. He would probably find out once he arrived in his office though.

The rain was becoming more than a faint mist, now a steady drizzle that still combated with the early morning sun. It made for a strange experience, adding to the off-balance feeling he had been suffering all morning. Sousuke hurried to his division, feeling he wouldn't fully awaken until he'd had his morning tea.

Gin-chan wasn't at his desk when he arrived, which in itself was unusual. Sousuke's gaze flickered past it to the door of his office, which was halfway open. He caught sight of a few black-uniformed people moving around inside. One hand on Kyouka Suigetsu, he moved forward, pushing the door open all the way.

The three looked up at him, in the midst of rifling through his belongings. Half of his things were already spread out over the floor, and one was sitting behind his desk, thumbing through his paperwork.

Confusion mixed with irritation, but neither registered on Sousuke's face.

"Excuse me?" he began, dropping his hand from his zanpakutou. "Could you please explain what is going on here?"

One of the lower-ranked Shinigami, a female, shifted uncomfortably. "Aizen-taichou... we did not expect you to be here."

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"We thought you would be gone," another clarified. "Yamamoto-soutaichou sent us here, and--"

Something in Sousuke's blood ran a little cold.

"Why?" he demanded and then retracted, forcing calm into his voice. "Why would he do such a thing?"

"Because Ki-chan's not here anymore."

At the familiar voice, Sousuke turned to find Yamamoto Isshin standing behind him, an unusually sober look on his face.

"He and Yoruichi aren't here anymore," Isshin went on in a serious tone. "Neither is Tsukabishi-fukutaichou. No one can find them."

Sousuke's mouth opened and then closed, a part of him automatically confirming his connection with Kisuke before he managed to find words. "What are you talking about, Isshin?" he asked, though his ears continued to register the sounds of the nameless Shinigami rummaging through his belongings with little regard for his privacy.

Gone? How could Kisuke be gone? It still felt as if he were right there. Sousuke could still feel him! Still feel his presence coiling in his soul.

The thoughts ran rampant inside his head. The look on Isshin's face was full of pity and apology, though it couldn't have been any more his fault than it was Sousuke's himself.

"You don't know where he is, do you?" Isshin asked, voice softer than Sousuke ever imagined it could be. It almost didn't fit with the boisterous man he knew, the always scheming troublemaker with an easy grin.

A part of him wanted to believe that it was all some elaborate scheme. But the rational side knew that couldn't be true. He had known that Kisuke had been dabbling in dangerous research. He hadn't thought they would come after him so soon, however. And why hadn't Kisuke said anything? Why had he left without a word, without a goodbye?

He instantly went cold, frozen so quickly that he missed whatever Isshin had said next. And there was a sudden roaring in his ear, heart pounding in his chest.

Last night had been a goodbye. He could remember Kisuke hedging away from what had been bothering him. His lover had been acting strangely, and at the time, he had thought nothing of it. But there had been so many other things on his mind, other plans, other events that needed handling. And he had pushed it aside, trusting Kisuke's judgment, reminding himself to confront the man about the next day. It had been his birthday, after all, no need to spoil the day.

No need at all.

"Sousuke-kun? Sousuke?"

He blinked, looking up to find that Ukitake Jyuushiro had joined Isshin while he was stuck in his reverie, and now, both looked at him with concern. They were still waiting for him to give an answer.

Sousuke shook his head. "No," he responded, trying to make his voice sound even. "I don't know where he is at all."

He wasn't sure he could handle Jyuushiro's kindness at the moment. Nevertheless, the other captain was standing by his side, offering a hand of comfort at his shoulder. It didn't make him feel any better. But he didn't shrug it off either.

"We're here for you."

That was all Jyuushiro truly needed to say. And it was all Sousuke really needed to understand.

The rest of his day went by with much the same effect, dragging on with agonizing slowness. He was summoned by Yamamoto mere minutes after finding the madness in his office, questioned about his lover's disappearance. The captain-commander also expressed surprise that Sousuke was still in Soul Society; it seemed everyone had expected him to vanish as well.

He would have, if he had been given the choice.

His fellow Shinigami were ruthless as they demanded answers that he did not have. He had heard that Gin-chan was questioned, as well as Isshin, Shunsui, and Jyuushiro. But none quite as much as he. Understandable. They were only friends and associates, after all. Everyone knew that he and Kisuke were lovers, though it was not as if they advertised.

Chamber 46 was certain that he knew something, that he was hiding the truth in order to protect his lover. A part of Sousuke wished that were true. That meant Kisuke had told him something, had given him some warning.

Instead, he could only keep repeating "I don't know." And this did not satisfy Soul Society.

It was not until the end of the first day that Sousuke felt it, in a moment of rare solitude between one round of demands and the next. He had been trying to find room to breathe, attempting to ignore his rumbling stomach and pondering the strange murmurings of his zanpakutou.

A sharp, sudden pain. Like being stabbed in the chest. It was as if something had snapped inside of him, some necessary thread that had once bound his heart together. A physical pain, a throbbing ache, and he jerked in surprise before a sudden emptiness swept through his very soul. Kyouka Suigetsu howled inside of him as the connection that he had always shared with Kisuke was so callously broken, and a sharp breath rattled in his chest.

Kisuke wasn't dead. He couldn't have died; the pain wasn't of that feeling. It would have been more agonizing, more gripping. This was more like the sun going behind the clouds, disappearing and darkening the world. Only it never reappeared, constantly keeping itself hidden behind a cover of fog.

Sousuke knew what a muted bond felt like, one dampened by a spell or something similar. This was not it. No, this was a purposeful ending, something that had been done consciously. As if Kisuke had been letting him know in some way that it was totally and completely over. His lover was gone, and there was no returning.

Something altogether like a sob tore from his throat. But he quickly stifled the sound.

A week later, they finally allowed Sousuke to return to his home. He blocked the entire seven days from his mind, wanting an escape from Soul Society's special means of deriving information that he didn't have to give. He knew that they still did not believe he wasn't withholding some knowledge. Sousuke was certain that they would be keeping a close eye on him for some time. Yet, he could not find it in himself to care at the moment.

Jyuushiro had offered to help him home. Isshin had practically invited himself over, bragging that he would bring his favorite food. Shunsui had a bottle already prepared. Sousuke had turned them all down. For the moment, he could not bear to look at another person.

He stumbled into his home, the silence that greeted him cold and empty. He only bothered with the lights in his bedroom, flicking them on and sending a pale luminescence into the room. Sousuke shed his dirtied uniform, sorely in need of washing, and collapsed tiredly on his futon. His glasses ended up in a clatter on the floor.

The blankets still smelled of the both of them, though it had grown faint in the past week.

Sousuke turned his head, pointing his nose away from the soft fabrics. It was then that he caught something from the corner of his eye, something he hadn't seen before. It was a small box, one about the size of his hands put together. He did not remember it being there prior to leaving a week ago.

Sitting up, he dragged the box closer to him and pulled off the small string tying it closed. The flaps popped open, revealing a smaller wrapped package within and a folded piece of paper; his name was scrawled in a familiar elaborate script. Ignoring the package for now, he reached for the folded note and pulled it out, unfolding it carefully. A quick scan informed him of what he had already known.

It was a letter from Kisuke. His lover never could do anything without flourish.


	2. Rock Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When all is said and done, regret is the only thing left.

He watched as Sousuke continued his every day routine, mastering his division, coaxing his lieutenant into becoming a fine officer. His paperwork was done on time as always, his unseated subordinates on their best behavior. The fifth division prospered. Time passed. Nothing changed.

Except, everything had changed, and Jyuushiro knew it.

There was nothing he could do, however. He had no way to fix his friend's pain. He could only watch and wish wholeheartedly that Kisuke hadn't left. Wish that there hadn't been a reason for him to leave. Or, in the deepest parts of himself, wish that Kisuke had taken Sousuke with him.

His friend still smiled as always, greeting everyone with the same kindness. But it was empty, lacking in true emotion. It seemed the only person who could manage to make him truly smile was his vice-captain, Gin. And that was only when no one was looking.

Sousuke was merely going through the motions, keeping a vague sense of normalcy. It was nearly impossible, given what had occurred.

Jyuushiro knew that his friend had moved out of his house, the one he had shared with Kisuke. It sat empty while Sousuke lived in the captain's quarters of his own division, a place he had never set foot in before. He still owned their home but never lived there. It simply gathered dust and sat abandoned, a lot like its owner sometimes.

The inquisition continued for nearly a year after Kisuke's departure, and poor Sousuke had been forced to bear the brunt of it. He was questioned repeatedly with little rest, watched after by the second squad, and rarely had a moment's peace. Not even Jyuushiro and Shunsui's repeated pleadings could convince them to stop, to realize that Aizen Sousuke knew nothing. They understood that if he had, Sousuke would've been long gone. But Central 46 cared little for his broken heart, didn't bother to grant him time to grieve.

Not that Sousuke would have taken it. He would've simply smiled and claimed he was fine.

And he turned down all offers for help. Isshin and Shunsui couldn't get close. He refused chances to go out drinking. Not even Jyuushiro could coax him to speak. He was still the same smiling Sousuke, but the light was gone, the energy.

He had a good public face. Only those who truly knew him were able to see just how much he hurt inside.

He worked longer and longer hours, personally training even more of his unskilled subordinates. He visited the library all the time, reading book after book, sometimes even asking for clarification of a fact or two. But only rarely. He avoided the twelfth most of the time, especially Kurotsuchi, the man who had taken the place of his lover.

Jyuushiro only once saw him break his pretend happiness, an actual twitch of interest flickering in brown eyes. Upon rescuing an interrupted training mission with the special class at the Academy, he had met a few promising students. Sousuke took great interest in them. And later, he would take three into his division.

But even that fascination passed all too quickly.

Sometimes, he caught Sousuke with a scrap of paper, looking as if it had been read thousands of times. It was folded, most often secured in his inner pocket, the safest one. He would pull it out from time to time, slowly look over the words, lips murmuring along. As though he had already memorized the entire message.

Even decades later, Jyuushiro would look from the corner of his eyes and spy his friend with that same scrap of paper, wrinkled and worn.

He never asked Sousuke what it was. He honestly didn't have to. Just from the look in the man's eyes, the sorrow in his body language, it was obviously something Kisuke had left for him. An apology perhaps. Or a goodbye.

Jyuushiro didn't know. And he wasn't going to ask.

He just wished he knew what to do to help his friend heal, to speak the right words. But they never came to him. Jyuushiro could only stand by and watch and wish that things hadn't turned out the way they had.

Jyuushiro felt useless, unable to fix anything. He could only watch as his friend clung to a love that would never be again.

Only watch. And hope.

* * *

She watched him as they set foot into the living world, exiting out of the Seikaimon with little flourish. He had been silent most of the journey, withdrawn and thoughtful. Tessai seemed to understand and kept his own quiet, always strong and assuring at his captain's side. And even though they had left, Kisuke would always be his captain.

Yoruichi still wasn't entirely sure why she had decided to leave with him. Kisuke was her dear friend from childhood and beyond. And true, she was feeling trapped by the bonds of her position and her duties. There was a lot in Soul Society she didn't agree with. Nor could she let Kisuke leave alone, not when she knew how much it would hurt him.

She understood she would be leaving Soifon behind, the young woman who was incredibly attached to her. But her second-seat was strong, both in will and in body. She would make it, be a fine captain and a great leader. Yoruichi could count on Soifon to lead the second division, probably even better than she herself had.

But Kisuke… he would need her far more than Soifon ever would.

Her point was proved as she stood off to the side, watching him stare up into the sky and the dark of the night, looking at something she couldn't see. His youthful face was shadowed by the darkness, but she had been his friend for a long time. It was too easy to see the pain reflected there.

Silence surrounded them, Tessai standing stoic, and she watching her best friend hurt from a wound she couldn't fix. Then, there was a sharp, short burst of his reiatsu. Passing by so quickly that she barely registered anything before Kisuke had safely tucked it away again.

Yoruichi was on the edge of berating him for his foolishness. On the brink of pointing out that it would be all too easy from someone to find them based on that alone. The words died on her lips when she glimpsed his face, however.

Moisture slid free from his eyes, trickling slowly down his skin, one by one. Misery radiated from him in waves. She could practically hear his heart shattering.

She clamped her mouth shut, biting her lip so hard it bled. She didn't know what had just happened, but Yoruichi was certain it was important. She studied him for another long moment before he turned, surreptitiously wiping at his eyes with his sleeve.

She turned to follow, but he simply shook his head, saying without words that he wanted to be alone. Yoruichi didn't particularly want to leave Kisuke by himself, but she nodded anyway, letting him walk off without a word. Tessai seemed to already understand his captain's intentions and stood silently off to the side.

"What was that?" Yoruichi whispered to him as Kisuke stepped into the darkness of the street, seeking his solitude.

The vice-captain's mustache quivered. "Taichou had no choice," he answered quietly. "He had to break their bond, or Soul Society would be able to find him."

The Shihouin heir's eyes widened.

No wonder her dear friend wept. It must feel as if he had cut off a part of himself, something as important to him as his arm or hand. Or heart.

"Why didn't he just ask Sousuke to come?" Yoruichi murmured more to herself than to Tessai.

He responded anyway, not that it was really an answer. "For that, you will have to ask him."

Yoruichi never got around to it. Or more like, every time she thought to ask, she was always greeted with Kisuke's fake smile. He pretended his usual cheer, his goofy aloofness. But inside, she knew, he was aching. She pushed her question aside because it would have only increased the pain. Besides, a part of her, might have already known.

She stood by his side as he moved into the home he had already prepared in the living world, setting up the shop that he had mostly ready. She was by his side as he dove into invention after invention, never ceasing despite such things being the reason he had been forced to flee. She watched as decades later, Yamamoto Isshin also came to Karakura, seeking out his old friend.

The sadness never left Kisuke's eyes. She suspected that the hat he had taken to wearing was not just to conceal the youthfulness of his face but also the emotions he was so desperate to hide. It shaded his expressions, concealing his agony from the world.

He abandoned the shihakushou, settling on the outfit he was known for even now. Still, he never could completely abandon his Shinigami roots, not when his outer robe resembled an inverted captain's haori. And he wore a lot of green. Only green, she noticed. His lover's favorite color, especially on Kisuke.

Sometimes, she would catch him outside looking up at the sky as if he could actually see Soul Society through the clouds. The regret and sorrow in his expression was obvious, his hat removed only at these times. It was enough to make her own heart ache. If she could heal his pain, she would.

Kisuke would only spend a few minutes out there, standing and staring before the hat would return to his head and he'd head back into the shouten. If he noticed her presence, he never said anything. It was perhaps one of the few times she saw him without his fake smile.

But still, she wondered. Why they'd left Sousuke behind. How things would be if he had come with them.

She suspected they would be very different indeed.


	3. Solitary Serenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events in Soul Society, two former lovers meet in neutral ground to catch up on old times. An offer is made.

It was unlike him to fidget. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop his hands from constantly shifting the position of the items on the tray in front of him. The porcelain clinked as he slid it across the finely crafted metal. It was a constant noise, a soothing noise.

It was the last thing he wanted to hear. But the silence was far too loud.

He had sent Ururu and Jinta away with Tessai on some errand, not wanting their presence for this meeting. It was a secret, a private affair between him and his guest. He needed no prying eyes, even if Tessai was privy to most, if not all, of his secrets. Still, there were some things a man, or in his case former captain, needed to keep to himself.

Mistakes, perhaps. Or regrets.

Either way, they were his to keep, and Urahara Kisuke planned to keep it that way. At least for the moment.

His ears were craned, however, his senses raised to high alert, waiting for the first sign, the slightest indication that his visitor had arrived. It was a struggle to keep his heart from beating too rapidly. He didn't want to admit to himself how much he was anticipating this meeting.

Then, he felt the barest tingle across the edge of his carefully expanded reiatsu. It was the same feeling of the sky splitting open, literally tearing apart to create passage between the living world and Hueco Mundo. It was the sensation of a rip in the dimensional fabric, a Garganta. Urahara didn't even need to look to know who it was.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the tray and took it into the sitting room, laying it carefully on the table in the center. He had no sooner set out the cups then a noise from the doorway caused him to lift his head, finding Aizen Sousuke standing there, his own reiatsu tightly contained. The former captain had always been the best at it, after all.

Aizen was dressed in his new regalia, all trappings of his life as a member of the Gotei 13 missing from his wardrobe. In fact, the coloring was a complete opposite, all whites and slim angles rather than the billowing black of the Shinigami.

Urahara was certain it was intentional.

For a moment, their eyes met, and Urahara had the brief, wavering thought that he didn't think he could do this. It would simply be too hard; it had been far too long. He didn't know if he could separate then from now. Not when he had been the one to leave.

But then, Aizen was the first to speak.

"Kisuke."

Urahara found it in himself to breathe again. He plastered his usual smile on his face.

"Sousuke, come on in. I'm just setting out the tea."

"Thank you for the invitation." Aizen stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind him, and seated himself at the low table, directly across from his host.

The shop owner watched his companion from beneath the brim of his hat as he poured their tea, the sound of the liquid sloshing into the cup the only noise to pierce the heavy silence. He looked at Aizen, and he saw the same man who had betrayed Soul Society, who had faked his own death, turned his vice-captain on her little brother, and made fools out of them all. He saw a man who used to be his dearest friend, one of the kindest men a person could ever meet. He saw someone he wasn't even certain he ever knew at all.

Except, none of that mattered right now. This meeting, this chance to talk to one another, was on neutral ground, a neutral discussion. It was a time where Aizen wasn't a man trying to become god and Urahara wasn't part of the group determined to stop him. No, right now, they were simply Kisuke and Sousuke as they had been so many years ago.

Afterwards, they could return to being adversaries, to trying to outsmart one another and somehow find a way to win. But for now... now, they were simply friends.

"You are the only one here?" Sousuke asked, the question entirely a formality since Kisuke was certain that the other man was fully capable of sensing the truth.

And just like that, it began. The same duel of words that seemed to define their conversations.

Kisuke nodded, picking up his cup from the tray and contemplating it. "I assume you didn't bring any of your... _minions_?"

A smile quirked at the corner of Sousuke's lips. "They are otherwise occupied."

' _Probably out creating mayhem and distracting Kurosaki-kun and the others_ ,' Kisuke thought to himself, finally sipping at his tea. He barely held back a grimace, his skills lacking in brewing it seemed. The offering of it had been a mere formality anyway.

"And Gin-chan?" the shop owner continued, changing the subject aloud to distract his own wayward thoughts.

In the back of his mind, he could still see the slim and silver-haired male, always hanging onto his captain's words, always eager for that one hint of praise. Back then, he had never thought anything of it, but now, Kisuke wondered if there might have been something he missed.

"I am proud of him as always," Sousuke responded, sounding sincere as one finger slid along the curve of his cup. "He has well exceeded my expectations."

"From his desire to please, I am sure."

"There is that."

A moment of silence, Kisuke carefully choosing his plan of attack in this game of witty barbs and quick returns. He felt vastly out of practice. It had been so long since he had encountered a worthy opponent. This was something he had most definitely missed.

"And Kaname-chan?"

The amusement in Sousuke's expression was clear for him to see. "I am surprised you would ask."

"Sheer politeness," he responded just as quickly, a shrug lifting his shoulders. He paused, thinking of the blind man, and a smirk tugged his lips. "He's such a stick-in-the-mud and always has been. I don't see why, Sousuke – or _how_ for that matter – you would want his help."

Sousuke inclined his head, dark eyes mercifully guarded. "They say the blind can see the truth better than anyone."

"So long as it is not hidden behind justice," Kisuke countered, his old distaste for Tousen slipping into his tone. He had never been fond of the man and had the feeling it had been mutual.

The look his former lover gave him was steadying, almost disbelieving. "You used to believe in justice."

"I still do. Just not his brand."

There was a pause in the conversation.

Sousuke regarded him thoughtfully before he continued, "For your curiosity, Kaname is doing fine as well." He finally took a sip of his own tea and actually managed to hide his distaste for the horrible brew.

Kisuke barely held back his scoff. "It's a burden off my shoulders to hear that," he replied sarcastically.

Instead of another sharp barb, however, the former fifth division captain smiled. And for all that Kisuke could tell, it seemed genuine, like the Sousuke he used to know. It caught him off guard, and immediately, Kisuke threw up all his barriers, locking away the openness that he was belatedly realizing he had allowed. It had been too easy to slip back into their old banter, far easier than he expected. Yet, he couldn't be sure anymore if anything from back then was real or not. Or if anything now was. He didn't want to be made a fool.

But a part of him desperately wanted to believe.

His reaction must have shown in his expression. Or perhaps Sousuke had noticed the subtle tightening of his muscles.

"Don't do that," his guest said quietly, Kisuke daring to think that maybe his tone held a hint of hurt. "Nothing's changed."

The shop owner's stare was just as even, just as guarded, gleaming from the depths of his hat. "Everything's changed," he remarked with some bitterness. "Don't try to tell me that it hasn't."

"I'm exactly as I have always been, Kisuke," Sousuke countered slowly, his voice somewhat chastising. But even then, a shiver raced down his companion's spine at the familiar lilt of his name. "I can't be blamed for people misinterpreting what they see."

A mirthless laugh escaped Kisuke's lips. "I don't think I've ever really known you at all," he replied, tone just as biting, just as accusing. "But then, I think I like you better this way."

Silence fell, heavy and sharp, almost palpable. Like the tart bitterness of blood spilt on a battleground or the undeniable weight of a regret left unvoiced.

But it was Sousuke to break it.

"I miss you," he murmured, eyes gleaming with something nameless.

Kisuke froze at the words, hand pausing midway to his lips, where he had been intending to force himself to swallow a bit more of the atrocious tea. He lifted his gaze to his companion, since it had been mercifully hidden by his hat, and was suddenly glad he had that barrier, that protection. It was starting to ache just a bit too much.

He hadn't intended for this meeting to be about the past, about what they had before. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to be about, but a part of him had hoped that "back then" would be avoided. Apparently, he had been wrong. Those old feelings were still there, no matter how much he tried to convince himself they weren't, and as long as either of them breathed, they would continue to exist.

They would not be forgotten. Not by distance or actions. Never.

"Liar," Kisuke countered without missing a beat, his voice carrying the barest suggestion of a rasp. He finally finished his earlier motion, taking a drink of his tea.

How could he even begin to believe Sousuke? The man had fooled everyone for so long. He would be arrogant if he thought that he was the only one spared from the illusion.

Yet, Sousuke continued. And if he were fazed by Kisuke's accusation, he didn't show it. Kisuke hated him in that moment for always proving unflappable. But as always, the hate all too quickly passed. Replaced by something he was forever unwilling to name.

"Why didn't you try to contact me afterwards?" the traitor asked, referring to the event so many years ago that eternally deemed Kisuke as an outcast from Soul Society. "Did you honestly think I would turn you in?"

Kisuke didn't even blink. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Why didn't you ask me to come with you?"

"Would you have gone?"

"Yes."

Having expected another question, another accusation hidden in query, Kisuke was stunned into silence. Speechless for once in his life. That frank answer, provided without a single ounce of hesitation, was not what he was prepared for.

Dead silence swept around them so quickly that he could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. In another room, a clock ticked loudly, counting down the seconds.

Sousuke rose to his feet after calmly setting his cup back down on the table. "Tea was wonderful," he commented, his voice not showing anything as he brushed nonexistent wrinkles from his hakama.

' _Liar_ ,' Kisuke thought. ' _It was awful, and you know it._ '

But the words were stuck inside of him, heavy on his tongue. His mouth refused to work.

His body moved on automatic. Kisuke stood, knowing it was only proper to show his guest to the door. He stepped around the table, and Sousuke met him halfway. He found himself looking into dark brown eyes before his former lover leaned to the side, his lips poised at his ear.

"You're always welcome to join me, Kisuke," Sousuke murmured and pulled away, his lips brushing ever-so-faintly across the other man's cheek, hair ghosting over his skin.

Grayish-green eyes widened, and he was again stunned. He didn't even register his companion leaving, letting himself out. On the edge of his senses, he felt a Garganta opening, swallowing his former lover. And then, there was silence again, except for the steady tick-tock.

He unconsciously sat back down at the table, staring at the dirty dishes. His tongue loosened then. And the question he meant to ask, had wanted to ask, finally managed to spill from his lips.

It was a bare whisper.

"Did you ever really love me?"

But there was no one around to hear it.


	4. The Banks of the Rubicon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was what he wanted to do. It was what he was doing. It was what he had done.

"The last time I saw you this thoughtful we abandoned Soul Society. Contemplating something dangerous again?"

Yoruichi's voice teasingly pierced the silence of the night as she stood over her best friend, looking down at him. They were on the back part of the shouten, Kisuke sitting with his legs over the edge. His hat was in his lap, a rarity for him, his face deep in thought.

The man tilted his head, gazing up at Yoruichi. His usually present smile was gone, replaced entirely by sincerity.

"If I left again, would you still follow me?"

Her playful grin disappeared from her lips at the tone of his voice. "Kisuke, what are you doing?"

Kisuke sighed, flipping his hat back on his head and tugging it over his face. "It's not like I haven't thought about it before," he responded softly. "And who wouldn't want to be at the left hand of god?"

"You're serious." Golden eyes widened marginally.

"Even more than when it came to leaving Soul Society in the first place."

The Shihouin heir shifted her stance, frowning. "You'll fight against everyone?" Yoruichi demanded. "Even Ichigo? Isshin's son? Your own student?"

Shaded eyes cast towards the ground, his hands clasping together. "Kurosaki-kun has already expressed his own doubts to me. I sincerely believe that I won't have to."

Yoruichi sighed and plopped down next to him, an action that made her seem even less of the princess she really was. "If this is some sort of penance--"

"It's not that," Kisuke replied, cutting her off before she could get any further. "But it's been a century, and it's not fair to either of us." He hesitated, leaning forward. "I really should have let him choose."

She studied him, every expression barely hidden on his face. It wasn't that she didn't understand how much his heart ached. Or that she didn't know the love that had managed to stand the long test of time, long even for a Shinigami. Or the circumstances. But this was different than merely leaving Seireitei. This was fighting _against_ Soul Society, taking a stand against a home where they had once belonged.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why are you asking?" he countered, just as quickly.

Yoruichi pursed her lips. "So I can know whether or not I should follow. Or maybe it's just curiosity. You're telling me anyway."

Her dear friend remained silent, tilting his head back to look up at the stars, as she had caught him doing so many times before. Inside was an internal debate. How could he answer that when he didn't know himself?

Was it because he missed Sousuke? Because he loved him? Because he thought Sousuke was right in his choices, in what he was doing? Or was it because they finally had a chance, after more than a century, to be together again and he refused to give it up?

Everyone had their breaking point. Kisuke had long passed his.

"I think you already know the answer."

He settled for being vague. It was the best he could give without either lying to himself to or to her. There were some things he would tell Sousuke and Sousuke alone. This regret was one of them.

There was a moment of silence before Yoruichi turned to him, hand laying on his arm. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing." She squeezed affectionately. "Go get him, tiger."

Kisuke felt a smile twitch at his lips.

* * *

He had only been in Hueco Mundo for ten seconds when something appeared in front of him in a flit of sonido. The man was youthful in appearance, resembling a more attractive and sober version of Kyouraku Shunsui. One of Sousuke's minions. Kisuke wondered if he was expected. But then, the invitation had been given, after all.

Kisuke locked eyes with the other man, recognizing that it was not a challenge, but this stranger was merely his escort. There was no hostility in his stance.

"I suppose you will take me to Aizen?" he questioned, one hand landing on his hat as if to hold it in place. He had never realized how much of a habit it was until that moment.

The Espada, for Kisuke recognized the force of this one's power, nodded. "Aizen-sama requested it. So if you don't mind…"

That same loyalty, so similar to what Sousuke had inspired in the Shinigami, in his own division. In poor, deluded Hinamori-chan. Kisuke was not surprised to find that his former lover had inspired it in his new followers, in his _children_.

Kisuke inclined his head, following the Espada with no further need for explanation. "Who are you?"

White fabric fluttered in the barely present wind of Hueco Mundo. "Stark."

"And your number?"

Stark glanced over his shoulder, a smirk painting his lips. "Numero Uno."

Amusement filtered into Kisuke's expression, his own mouth curving into a faint smile. He should have figured that Sousuke would send his strongest. It was an ever so subtle challenge. And it was also a gesture of respect, a subtle way of saying that he thought only the best capable of keeping up with his former lover.

"I see," Kisuke responded.

Nothing more needed to be spoken. Silence reigned between he and his escort as they quickly traveled to Las Noches and through the large, almost majestic halls. Kisuke admired Sousuke's choice of decoration, wondering what it would take to bring a splash of color to the place. Perhaps Tousen had inspired it, as dull as he was.

Stark led him, not to a large meeting hall as Kisuke suspected, or even a throne room. But rather to a smaller and more private setting. The room overlooked the vast land of Hueco Mundo, the pale sands stretching out further than his eyes could follow, broken only by the appearance of dark trees. A small throne was perched in the center of the enormous balcony, facing the door.

Kisuke was shown inside, and then, the door promptly shut behind him, Stark leaving them their complete privacy. His eyes fell on his former lover, dressed as he had been before, elbow propped on the arm of his throne. Something inside of him clenched at the familiar, appraising glance, his heart stuttering in anticipation.

When Kisuke stepped further onto the balcony, Sousuke rose to his feet to greet him. And then, they were standing in front of each other, actually within touching distance but not crossing that short space.

Anticipation and unspoken issues in the room made for a silent greeting as the two former captains stared at each other. One hundred years could not be entirely accounted for from their last meeting. There was still much unsaid.

"You've become a rather lousy host," Kisuke said, falling back on what he knew best to break the silence: their banter. "Aren't you going to offer me some tea?"

Brown eyes watched him with a flicker of amusement. "I only offer tea to guests," Sousuke responded simply. "I do believe you are here for a different reason entirely."

Kisuke felt his lips twitch, daring to curve into a faint smirk. "I am. You did extend the invitation after all."

"I did."

A bare breath of wind stirred, highlighting the privacy of their location, the sheer silence of Hueco Mundo. It was weighty with expectations, words hovering over their heads and smashing one against another in a fight to be spoken.

"Why did you come?" Sousuke finally asked, the ice broken but not entirely melted.

He meant more than he said, but it didn't matter because Kisuke would understand him anyway. He wasn't upset that his lover had come, but he wanted assurance. He wanted to know that Kisuke wasn't there, only to turn around and leave him again. He had to know Kisuke's reasons before daring to trust again. Sousuke did not want to know abandonment for a second time. Once was enough, and it had nearly destroyed him then.

Kisuke swallowed thickly, eyes shadowed by his hat. "Because you're here, and that's enough."

"Is it?" Sousuke countered, a trace of reproach in his tone. "It wasn't before."

He winced at the frank response. "I deserve that," Kisuke sighed, Benihime tapping against the tile beneath their feet. "You already know the reasons why I left and why I never told you."

"Knowledge and acceptance are not the same thing."

"And I wasn't the only one with secrets," Kisuke shot back, easily falling into their usual rhythm, though their words were less playful and more painfully honest.

Sousuke did not even hesitate. "I have only ever been myself," he responded softly. "But you were unable to see that."

"Did you want me to see?"

"Of course, I did."

Kisuke was thrown by that simple and frank admission. Sousuke had wanted to be seen, for him to see Sousuke, not the Aizen-taichou that he showed to the world. He had said that he expected it, thought that his lover should have been able to notice. And he hadn't.

Kisuke didn't know what to say to that. Like his lines in the play had been lost. As though someone had stolen the script, and he was now forced to make them up because the show had to go on. The banter and exchange of barbs was gone, leaving him teetering on nothing but pure honesty, withholding nothing.

Shadowed eyes shifted off to the side. "Did you really?" he asked softly, more to himself than to Sousuke.

Inwardly, he was mentally re-evaluating all the feelings of betrayal he had worked up, all the indignation he had burned into his being. He had left before anything could really happen. It was his fault and his fault alone that he had never been able to see his lover for his true form. There was no "this way" to like him better. There was only Sousuke and how he had always been. The Sousuke he still held dear to his heart.

Kisuke parted his lips, knowing what he owed his lover. An apology. An admission of his mistake.

Before he could even form the words, however, Sousuke interrupted.

"I know."

He closed his mouth, accepting his forgiveness.

Something eased in that moment, a thin thread of tension snapping and replaced by calm acceptance. The moment was no longer rife with pain and unsaid secrets, instead being replaced with understanding.

"I won't bow to you," Kisuke finally said.

There was the faintest of chuckles. "I never expected you to."

Kisuke hummed in his throat. "I would've thought only Gin had that privilege."

A moment of stunned silence, and then Sousuke laughed, actually laughed. Out loud and so painfully familiar to Kisuke, a sound that was even better than his memories. The remaining tension vanished in that instant, leaving nothing but the memory of a century spent apart.

"And now, you as well, my dear Kisuke," Sousuke responded. He was clearly amused by that hint of lasting jealousy.

Kisuke's lips upturned into a smile, heart thundering at the mere sound of his name on Sousuke's tongue. That same tone he still loved, as if his lover lingered over each syllable, savoring the taste of each vowel. A happy memory that warmed him on the inside, something he had often recalled.

He cocked his head to the side, gaze sweeping over his lover's face. "You took my advice. You lost the glasses."

"Yes. It's a wonderful invention from the living world, you see." He watched as Sousuke's eyes flickered to his head. "And yet, you've gained a hat. A rather... _interesting_ hat."

Kisuke pouted teasingly. "You don't like it?"

"The color suits you."

There was a pause. And then, Kisuke reached up, fingers curling around the brim.

"I think it suits you better," he replied, taking off the addition and placing it on Sousuke's head, right over the new hairstyle.

His hand lingered, only to slide downwards. Fingers curled around the back of Sousuke's ear, brushing against soft hair and the warm skin of his neck inside the collar. The white looked good against Aizen's darker skin, the outfit better for him than the billowy shihakushou of the Shinigami. He looked far less the good-natured dork and far more the confident soon-to-be ruler of Soul Society.

Kisuke couldn't stop his fingers from wanting to linger against Sousuke's throat. It might have been a bit presumptuous of him, so he forced himself to pull away. He only managed a few inches before a hand fell on his, effectively stopping him. A thumb rubbed over the back of his hand and fingers encouragingly.

Bared by the loss of his hat, gray-green eyes sought out his lover's face. Sousuke leaned closer, his lips poised right before Kisuke's ear in a manner similar to their last conversation. He could feel the warm puff of air on his skin, and it made him shiver ever so subtly.

"You always were such a flirt. What would Kurosaki-kun and his friends think if they could see you now?" Sousuke murmured with a chuckle, his voice like liquid desire drizzling down the exiled man's spine.

"I think we can work out an arrangement with that," Kisuke responded, his free hand tightening around Benihime in anticipation.

Sousuke was so close. He could feel his warmth against him, the gentle thrum of his reiatsu, stronger than it had ever been before.

"And so we will," Sousuke assured, lips almost but not quite brushing skin.

A moment of silence passed where Kisuke could practically feel the smile against his cheek. Could hear Sousuke breathing against his ear.

Then, Sousuke added, "Welcome home."

He shifted to pull back, but Kisuke thwarted his plans. He turned his head, and their lips actually met, brushing softly together. The hesitation wasn't even as long as a millisecond before Sousuke returned the kiss, mouths pressing together in a movement that was more sensual than it was chaste.

Sousuke's free hand settled on Kisuke's waist, fingers tightening ever so subtly. The kiss was both familiar and foreign, tempered with the loss of a century and yet also strengthened by that distance. It was everything Kisuke had been dreaming of for decades. And exactly what he wanted now.

Ending the kiss with a faint sigh, Kisuke looked up at his lover and smiled. An honest curve of his lips that no one had seen in a century.

"I'm home."


End file.
